Fighting the Current, third story after IaMIaL
by athena2517
Summary: A new war is beginning. Helen has to battle with her new role as commander, and against the flood of enemies that threaten to drown Marmoreal. When Alice and Tarrant arrive too late to prevent a battle, they discover that the war just got more complicated
1. Commander, who?

_**Welcome to the newest story! I'm starting you out learning about the Officers Corps, something dear to this author's heart. This story will be told from Helen's point of view, but don't worry. You'll be seeing plenty of the original characters.**_

Helen sighed in relief as she changed into her new clothes. It felt like a lifetime since she had last had the chance to bathe, and she was finally clean. She laced up her clunky boots, which had survived almost as many battles as she had, and went down to the Officer's mess hall.

She smiled as she approached; the sounds of talk and laughter filled the air, just like the old days. When she had just been a fighter and a teacher, spending all her free time with the friends she loved. Listening to her comrades-turned-family now, you could think for a moment that Horunvendush day had never happened. That their ill conceived attempt at ending the regime by themselves had never been attempted. She could almost believe that when she turned the corner everyone would be there, George and Quinn would be alive and well, she would just be another knife hand. Almost.

When she turned the corner, conversation stopped and everyone stood at attention. She felt her mood plummet.

"At ease." She ordered, and conversation slowly resumed. She made her miserable way towards James, who was sitting alone, watching her.

"Any way I could make them stop doing that?" she asked.

"Sorry, Helen. It's protocol. It shows respect." James said, knowing she didn't feel worthy of her role as commander.

_I don't deserve their respect_. A small part of her said. _It's just me, I'm just Helen. Time help me, I only ever wanted to be a teacher and a knife! I'm not made for command! _

"How many of us are left?" she asked.

"We started before the mutiny with one hundred souls. After that, we had thirty-seven. After we recruited some from the resistance, we had forty-three. After we were freed, we took the count in at twenty five." James said gently, knowing how much he was hurting his friend and commander.

Helen seemed to freeze for a moment, as if lack of movement could keep the pain of loss away.

"Have we started to gather new recruits yet?" she asked.

"I sent Catherine to work on it." James said, making Helen smile. Catherine had been her own personal student before the mutiny. Aside from the general lessons that she used to teach, the trainees were chosen by Officers and taught one-on-one Catherine had been her first, and last student.

"How could they say no? I certainly never could." Helen said. "Inform every officer that they must choose a student. We need to bring our numbers back up. Assign Raina as the new instructor, she'll do a good job. Ah, here's Cat now."

Catherine plopped herself down in the chair across from Helen.

"We have ten new recruits as of today. They're weak and green as grass, but it's a start, right?" She looked at Helen. Even after all they'd been through she still saw Helen as infallible. She would always be a student wanting to please her teacher.

"That's a great start. We can only have twenty five at this time, so don't go overboard." Cat looked confused.

"We can only have twenty four. Helen… commander, you're a commander, and commanders don't get students."

Helen put her head in her hands. She had known that, but she also knew that if they didn't get enough members soon, the Officers corps would collapse.

"I hate this." She muttered to herself. "But , Time help me, I love these people."

"I'll be in my office if you need me." Helen said, and left, lost in her own thoughts.


	2. You're mine

_**AAAAAAAAAAAAAnd, more Helen stuff. I know if you get to know her, you'll like her.**_

The finishing touch, she placed the portrait down on her desk. It was a picture of her and her adopted father, William. It was the day she had become a full Officer. William had been the commander, and the pride in his eyes when she shook his hands showed through, even in the paint the portrait was done in.

She wished they had captured the moment after. He had stepped forward and hugged her, then whispered in her ear, "I am so proud of you." "Thanks, Dad." She had responded. She knew how much this meant to him. Two years later she was part of the Big Three. A year after that she was appointed as head instructor, and a year after that, William died.

George had a been a fair, smart commander. Aside from his arrogant mistake in attacking Salazen Grum, he had commanded wisely. Still, it was hard for her to think of this as anyone but William's office. It was his desk, the one he had kept his pictures on, including the one she had now. Next to the desk was his chair that he sat in when he told her stories, or lectured her on how she had made mistakes in training. The bookshelves in the corner were where he had kept his favorite books.

She braced herself and then sat stiffly in his old chair. It was far too big for her. She tried to sit up taller, but still the chair made her feel dwarfed. She leaned forward to adjust the other pictures on her desk.

One was a drawing of the Big Three. They stood tall, mighty. George had a strung bow in one hand and a gleam in his eye. Quinn held bandages in one hand, the other was a fist, showing her determined nature. Helen stood easily, her one hand resting on the hilt of her knife, the other relaxed at her side. The final one was a burnt sketch of Quinn. Done by George's inexperienced hand, Quinn had kept it in her pocket until her dying day. Helen could see why, love was apparent in every stroke of charcoal.

There, she had personalized the office as much as she was ever going to. It was time for business.

Her boots echoed loudly on the stone steps leading to the dungeons of Marmoreal. That was deliberate, she didn't want to startle anyone. She could move silently as a mouse if she wished.

"You're dismissed." She said to the guards, and they made haste to leave. Helen had a reputation for a short temper. Only partly earned.

"Ilosovic Stayne." She said, as she pulled the stool that stood in the corner over to the bars. He shuffled forward and sat against the bars.

"I'm confused." She told him. "I keep thinking, how could you blow up a part of this castle, if you're stuck in there? How could you even send a signal from way down here?" She leaned forward.

"I'm sick of coming down here to talk to you." She said. "I don't like this place, never have. Truth is, too many people have been in here because I caught them. Once upon a time, the Officers guarded this place. Those times are behind us now."

Stayne watched her with his good eye, not saying a word. He knew that soon enough, she would get to blaming him for all of her troubles.

"Are you innocent?" Helen asked. He didn't answer. "I don't have an answer either." She continued. "I recognize your features, your scars, but not you. Your looks, your gestures, the look in your eye. The way you speak. All these things are foreign to me. I thought I grew to know you in your prison of horrors, but now, I don't know you at all. Your arrogance is gone. Your bravado, and your air of invincibility just disappeared. Where did they go? Where did you go?"

Stayne stayed silent. He kept perfectly still. If she hadn't been able to see the rise and fall of his chest, she would have thought him dead.

"Talk to me." She commanded.

"What should I say?" he said in a flat voice.

"Anything." She said.

"Why? What's the point? You tell me all the things I've done, but I don't remember doing them. All I remember is being with my family, then on a battlefield, then here. Do you want me to beg? Plead for my freedom? What do you want? Why can't you just leave me alone?" his voice was sorrowful and defeated.

Helen stood, took a key from her pocket, and unlocked the door. She then took another key and freed his hands and feet.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea. I must be mad. I really must be, but I cannot leave you to rot down here. Not when all my instincts are telling me that you're a victim. Don't get me wrong, you make one wrong move towards me, or any of my people, and I will kill you myself. I'm claiming you as my own prisoner. Come on." She lifted him up by his shoulder with surprising strength.

"Where are you taking me?" Ilosovic asked.

"I, am taking you to your new home. You'll still be a prisoner, of course, but it's more comfortable than being down here in my humble opinion." She led him by the arm back up into the castle, ignoring the protesting guards.


	3. Mornin' sunshine Today's a new day

"Mmmmph!" Helen yelled through her pillow at the loud knocking on her door.

"Wake up, commander sleeping beauty, The White Queen wants to speak with you." James' infuriating voice said. She groped around and threw the first thing her fingers came into contact with in the general direction of the door. James slammed the door, making her jump and she heard him laugh as he went down the hallway.

She rolled over, and fell off onto the floor with a thud. She stood with a moan, she wasn't used to sleeping off the ground. She stumbled to get into her clothes and realized it was her shoe she had thrown at the door.

She used the water in her washbasin to smooth her hair into some kind of order, and went to meet with her sovereign. Upon entering the throne room where the queen sat, Mirana called to the guards.

"You can wait outside." She told them sweetly. Helen smiled as she knelt, then sat on the step closest to the throne.

"Come sit beside me." Mirana said, gesturing to the wooden chair beside her. Once Helen was comfortably seated, she questioned the queen on the reason for her summons.

"I have several reasons, the most important of which can wait. First, I want to know how the rebuilding of the Officers is going."

"Slowly." Helen admitted. "Our training process is cruel, and we, that is, mostly the women, are looked down upon by the upper classes. The trick is, how to teach farmhands the finer points of combat. We're doing our best."

"Good." Mirana said, with a small smile. "Now, it has come to my attention that you have taken the prisoner, Stayne, as your own?"

"Yes, your majesty." Helen said, hoping she wouldn't have to explain, when she herself didn't even know fully why she did it.

"Your instincts never cease to amaze me, you see, I have reason to believe Stayne may not be who we believe him to be." _Thank Time!_ Helen thought. _I thought I was losing my mind… again._

"Guards!" Mirana called. "Bring in Mr. Toby!" The doors soon opened to reveal an elderly, balding man. Helen immediately put on her "commander face" a completely blank mask that had proved invaluable many times. She almost sighed at how often she had had to use it lately. Almost.

"Morning, your majesty." Mr. Toby said, glancing briefly in Helen's direction.

"Good morning Mr. Toby, this is my friend, Helen." Helen's mask almost broke when Mirana called her a friend. _Shows how much I can't stand being isolated like this, _Helen thought _commander, my left boot! _


	4. The tragic tale of Ilosovic Stayne

", please sit down." Mirana said, gesturing delicately to a chair. The poor man was so nervous Helen was surprised he didn't vibrate off of the offered chair. Helen toned down the curious stare she could feel forming in her eyes and gave him a small smile.

"Mr. Toby, could you please tell Helen your story? Just as you told me if you please." It was then that Mr. Toby told the story Helen had been waiting to hear. How the greatest evil she had ever known had come to take the life of Ilosovic Stayne.

"I was neighbor to the Stayne's since Ilosovic was just a little lad. He always was runnin' around getting into all kinds of mischief. His parents, friends of mine, said many a day that he would start running at dawn and wouldn't stop until after dusk! I remember when he was young, he didn't love anything so much as he loved to run. Not to any particular place mind you, he'd just run.

Well, the years passed and little Ilosovic was growing into a fine, tall, young man. He was apprenticed to the blacksmith and took to it as easily as anyone has ever done. He was so very clever, before long he knew just as much, if not more than his master! Still, he loved to run, and to ride! He'd be out and about just as long as he had been as a lad. Don't get it in your head, he wasn't all fun and games, he was a hard worker, and he was soon the best at his trade.

When he wasn't outdoors he was visiting his brother. We in the neighborhood used to joke that he spent more time with his brother, and his nieces and nephews, than he did at his own house! I'm telling you this because I think it's important for you to know, he wasn't always… like that.

All that changed one day. We heard there were bandits, robbers, in the area and Ilosovic was only too eager to try out his sword skills on someone outside of our village. He had learned sword lore from his master and was as quick a learner in that as he was in everything else. I don't know what exactly happened that day, but all I know is this: He went out to make sure they weren't coming our way, and he came back different. It didn't stop at a change in hair color. He went to his brother's house, same as every day, and he murdered them all. His brother, his sister-in-law, all of his nieces and nephews, and he laughed while he did it.

Everyone who heard their screams came running, but we couldn't stop him. I only escaped when he knocked me out and left me for dead. When I awoke I found the whole village burned to the ground, everyone dead."

"My god." Helen breathed. "I'm sorry." She said more loudly. She looked at Mirana. "What does this mean?" she asked the queen.

"Your guess is as good as mine." She responded.


End file.
